


I'll Bring the Lock, You Bring the Key

by Bluehaven4220



Series: Tim and Abby: Across the Water [3]
Category: Homicide: Life on the Street, due South
Genre: BIG Changes, F/M, Job transfers, Meeting the Parents, Moving, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 21:05:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17108111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluehaven4220/pseuds/Bluehaven4220
Summary: The changing of the seasons brings renewed hope to Abby and Tim as they navigate the next steps in their relationship





	I'll Bring the Lock, You Bring the Key

**Author's Note:**

> This would not have been possible without ButterflyGhost. Thank you so very much for your insight, the beta, hand holding, and idea bouncing.
> 
> Also a big thank you to lightspire for her help in figuring out a title for this story, and other little things throughout the writing process as well.

 

Every morning I still feel the urge to pinch myself, and have had that same urge for the last six months. As soon as Tim had to head back to Baltimore in August, I’d asked my office for a transfer to their Maryland branch. They hadn’t exactly been happy with me, but, seeing as the Maryland branch was hiring, they’d put me in touch with the branch manager, who had asked me to come for an interview.

So I’d gotten on a plane in September and gone to Baltimore for a week, working remotely as needed. In fact, after the interview, I’d spent the entire week in the branch getting to know the layout and the other people in the office. I took that as a good sign.

Unfortunately, I was so busy while in Baltimore that I only got to see Tim once. We’d only had time to grab some lunch together before we both had to get back to work.

“I don’t know when I’ll find out if they want me, hopefully soon,” I told him as we found a small cafe and sat down. “And once I do, if they want me, I’ll have to find an apartment.”

“You could move in with me,” Tim suggested as our server came to greet us. “As you know, I’ve got more than enough room, and you know your way around the place already.”

“Tim…” I smiled. “It’s a very generous offer, but I’ve never lived on my own before.” I opened the menu and scanned it quickly. “I want to try it, at least for a little while.”

He stopped for a moment, and blinked.

“I understand that,” he nodded. “Sometimes I forget what it was like to make a big move like you’re planning.” He took a sip of water. “And sometimes I forget how much of an adjustment it was for me to live on my own too. Like you, I didn’t live on my own until after college.”

“You didn’t?” I don’t think he’d ever told me that. “Did you have a roommate?”

“Nope, went to the University of Maryland and lived at home.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” I answered once we’d ordered. “As you know, I didn’t do it in quite the same way, but I need to at least try it, even if it’s only for a year,” I reached out and offered my hand, same as he’d done for me the first time we’d eaten together. “Of course, all of this hinges on whether or not work decides to grant me the transfer.”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” Tim told me, all calm and collected. “From what you’ve told me, you’ve been in their office all week, and that’s _after_ you had the interview. I’d say that’s a pretty good sign.”

“In any case, cross your fingers for me?”

“Of course I will, come here,” he leaned across the table and kissed me quickly. “If this all works out, I could help you find a place and help you move all your things in?”

I smiled. God, this man was everything I’d ever wanted.

“I probably won’t have much,” I leaned back as our server returned with our meals. “If the place I end up renting is furnished, then I won’t have to pack more than a few suitcases and a carry on.”

“Can you really pack up your life into three suitcases and a carry on?”

“I don’t need much,” I answered, stabbing at my salad. “I haven’t accumulated anything big since we moved to Chicago. Just a few more books, my clothes, and my photo albums.” Looking back, it really didn’t seem like I’d accomplished much. “Oh, and my diploma and my college degree. Unless you count my ballroom dance awards, which I’ll leave at the apartment, there’s not much I really have to bring with me. The cooking set and my bedding can stay there too. I can get new sets of those out here.” Tim and I locked eyes. “God, listen to me, going on as though this is actually going to happen. I’ve only just had the interview!”  

“The more times you say it, the more it will become your truth,” Tim told me. “Perhaps if you repeat it enough, it will happen.” Tim was more of a dreamer than I was, but it sounded as though there were a grain of truth in that statement. Maybe he was trying to convince himself of something. “You’ve done everything you can. It’s up to them whether they think you’re a good fit.”

“Wow.” It was my turn to blink, stunned. “My grandmother said almost the exact same thing, when my dad and I were about to leave Tulita.” I cleared my throat. “The ‘the more you say it, the more it will become your truth’ bit, not about whether people think I’ll be a good fit.”

Tim chuckled. “Your grandmother sounds like a very wise woman.”

He’d said that once before, the first time we’d had dinner, but it was still nice to hear him say so. “She is. I haven’t called her in a few weeks, actually. I really should.” I took another bite of salad. “She’s very curious about you.”

“Yeah? What’ve you told her?”

“That I’m in love with you.” There was absolutely no hesitation in saying it. “And that you make my heart sing.” I chuckled this time. “I know that sounds sappy, but I don’t care. It’s the truth.”

“I love you too,” he answered, and I could see it in his eyes. He meant it. “That’s part of the reason why I asked if you wanted to move in with me, should the transfer go through.”

“I know, but it’s important for me to try living on my own.”

“I understand,” he repeated. “I’m just sorry this visit is so short. I could have started calling around, given you a bit of a head start in what’s available.”

“I’m here until Saturday evening. I could come by the Waterfront and see everyone on Friday night?”

He smiled. “I’d like that. I’m sure Lewis and Munch would too.” He leaned forward over the table. “But there’s something else I’d like more.”

“Does it involve dinner and then hanging out on your couch with wine, popcorn, and cartoons?”

“It can if you want it to.”

“That’s perfect, let’s do that instead,” I answered. “This week has been so busy that I’m almost looking forward to heading back to Chicago so I can have a rest.”

A real look of hurt crossed Tim’s face.

I blinked, taking his hand. “Holy crap, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. What I meant is that it would be perfect if you could come back with me.”

“Wish that I could, but Gee would have my ass in a sling, especially since I just got back two weeks ago.”

“I guess he would. Anyway, it takes me a while to take my work hat off. This is the one meal we get to have together and here I am going on and on about work…”

“Well, you’re talking to a detective. I do know how you feel here.”

“There’s a lot riding on this, since I’ve thought about it so much.” I paused, and really thought about what he’d just said. “Wait, what do you mean by that?”

ooOoo

Well shit, look at us. We’re both so wrapped up in work today and neither of us is really saying what we want to say. Perhaps it hadn’t been the right time to talk about this. Like Abby had said, there was a lot hinging on whether she got the transfer.

What I hadn’t expected was for her to reject the offer of the two of us living together. To be fair, I understood why she’s initially said no, but I had never seen this side of her. She was hyper aware of her surroundings, focused on the time limit and barely picking at her food. It was a little unnerving.

“Just that it takes me a while to take my work hat off, too,” I reassured her.

She sighed. “Well then, aren’t we a good team?” She put her fork down and took a sip of water. “If it takes us this long to switch gears, what would it be like if we had more time this afternoon?”

“It’d probably feel less like pulling teeth,” I tried to cover my anxiety. I pushed the feeling of slight rejection to the side, as I knew she wasn’t outright rejecting me. It was just the thought of us living together so soon into our relationship that she didn’t think was a good idea.

Since we only had an hour, and both our plates were full, both literally and figuratively, we both focused on finishing our food. We could pick things up on Friday…

ooOoo

I’d never been so happy to leave my office. Friday evening had finally arrived, and, after the unmitigated disaster that had been our lunch date, I was anxious to see Tim again. I wanted to apologize and, in truth, make it up to him. After all, it had been my fault that the entire thing had felt like pulling teeth.

I bought a bottle of wine and take out before heading over to Tim’s building. This time, he wasn’t waiting downstairs, which made sense. It was close to seven o’clock. So, I scanned the buzzers in the anterior and pushed the one marked ‘Bayliss’.

“Hello?” I heard a few moments later.

“Hi Tim!”

“Hey! Come on up!” He sounded genuinely happy that I was there. At least, I hoped he was.

When I got up the elevator, he already had the door open a crack.

“Hello the house!” I called as I pushed the door the rest of the way open with my hip.

“Hi!” I heard clattering in the kitchen. Tim was grabbing plates and cutlery. “Just getting the table set. What smells so good?”

“I brought tofu chow Mein, stir fried vegetables and some mushroom potstickers.” I held up the plastic bags containing our dinner in illustration. “And I made sure to double check that all the sauces were vegetarian too.”

I saw Tim’s eyes light up. “That sounds delicious.” He set the plates and cutlery on the table and came over to the front door. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” I smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss. “It’s my fault our lunch date was such a disaster the other day. I wanted to make it up to you.”

Oh God, I’m making it worse. What if he didn’t think it was a disaster and I’m just rubbing salt in an open wound? No. Shut up, Abby. You’re fine. Shut up.

“No it wasn’t. I think we were both distracted. I’d just come off a difficult case and you’d just had a difficult interview about a job that you’ve been waiting for.”

“Even still, we weren’t at our best.”

“Point taken. What do you say we dish out our supper, and eat in front of the TV?”

And we did. Take out with a glass of wine, tapes of Mighty Mouse and Bugs Bunny, and apple crumble for dessert was just what we needed.

ooOoo

I’m still not entirely sure that Abby packing up her life and moving out to Baltimore is the best idea she’s ever had, but, same as it had been when June told me she was pregnant, it wasn’t up to me. And as I’d said to her when Tim had flown out to meet Ray and I, I’d taught her everything I could.

That doesn’t mean that I don’t still worry about her. I’m her Dad, and for years it was just the two of us. She’s adapted remarkably well to having Ray in her life… I guess it was my turn to adapt as well.

She’s been on the phone in her room for quite a while now. Whether it’s regarding the job transfer or an apartment listing, I’m not sure, but I’m not hearing anything terrible so I suppose I can relax a little.

I’m incredibly proud of Abby. I know that most fathers would say that about their daughters, but, for me, it’s important that she knows it. She and I grew up together, so to speak. And now that she’s a young woman, it’s difficult for me to accept that I’m going to lose her to Baltimore. I suspect I’d feel this way in any circumstance where she’d told me she wanted to move. I wonder if this is how her grandparents felt when Abby had begged me to ask for a transfer out of Tulita.

It’s still the best thing I ever did for her. However, that doesn’t mean that the ones left behind were not hurt at the fact that we ended up in another country altogether. I’m still not sure whether Innusiq has forgiven me for that, even if he’d called and told me he had.

Abby’s door opened, and she had a look of shock on her face.

“Abby?” I asked as she closed the door behind her.

“I did it…” she blinked. “Daddy, I did it! I got the transfer.”

My heart dropped into my feet as she reached out her arms for a hug. This was it. She was actually leaving. But, on the other hand, she’d done her research and was prepared. Shouldn’t I at least have felt a sense of peace about that?

“That’s wonderful, baby girl,” I kissed her cheek. “When do you head out?”

“Two weeks from Saturday,” I could hear the smile in her voice. “I don’t have an apartment yet, but I’ll do what we did when we first moved to Chicago. Get a hotel room for a week or so, even if I won’t need it for that long.” She pulled away, and I saw small tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “And once I find a place, Tim is going to help me move my things in.”

“Furnished or unfurnished?”

“Hopefully furnished,” we sat down on the couch together. “If I can get a furnished place, then I don’t have to worry about renting a moving van and driving ten hours with all my things.”

“Wouldn’t you want things that are familiar to you for your first apartment on your own?” I reasoned. “Remember how much that helped when we first moved to Chicago.”

“True, but wouldn’t it make the most sense to have a clean slate?”

“Depends on your budget,” I answered, then noticed the file folder on the coffee table. “That’s in the folder, I suppose?”

“It is. Look…” Like me, I’d noticed over the years that.Abby took comfort in planning, order, and routine. Especially when it came to making a big change. “You know what, there’s too much here to be able to see everything clearly. Let’s move over to the kitchen table.”

Once we had, she clearly and concisely laid out her plan. She was so like her great-grandmother Martha in this respect that it was almost eerie. She had budget sheets, apartment listings, phone numbers for switching family doctors and dentists, names of bank branches… perhaps I’d underestimated her.

“Now that I think about it,” she interrupted my thoughts. “I don’t want you or Ray to feel left out. Could we, conceivably, save money by renting a moving van, then you, Ray, and I drive out at say, eight in the morning, each of us taking turns driving in two to three hour shifts, stopping to change out drivers and stretch our legs…”

I grabbed a piece of scratch paper and made a running tally of all the expenses she was describing. All in all, if she rented an unfurnished apartment, and brought her bed, dresser, and bookshelf in the moving van, she’d save over two hundred dollars in moving expenses alone. And that was including Ray and I taking a few vacation days and renting a hotel room while we helped her search for said apartment. Hopefully she’d have the same luck we’d had when we had first moved to Chicago.

“Plus Tim offered to help me move as well. He also offered to have me move _in_ with him but I said no.”

I blinked, stunned. She hadn’t told me about that.

“He did?”

“Yes, but I said no,” she repeated. “Well, not no as in ‘no it’ll never happen’, but ‘no, not yet because I’ve never lived on my own before and I want to try it for a little while.’”

Very smart. Smarter than either of her parents put together. Come to think of it, I’d never lived on my own. I’d either lived with my grandparents, or Rebecca and Henry after June died, until Abby was eleven. Then we’d had our own space for a year before we’d moved to Chicago, and then it’d been Abby, Dief and I until Ray moved in. Abby wasn’t just smart in her approach to this move, she was brave.

I’m still so proud of her.

“Let’s get the rental company on the phone, yes?” I suggested. “If you’re heading out in two weeks, we need to book it now.”

ooOoo

It’s been two weeks since I got the transfer, and, as Dad, Ray and I finish packing the rest of the boxes and load them into the moving van, it’s suddenly _real._ I am actually packing up my life and moving to a new state. I’m excited, but at the same time, terrified. I know I won’t be completely alone. Dad and Ray are staying with me for a week while we apartment hunt (we’ve already got two showings lined up for the first morning we’re there), and Tim is coming along too.

If I’m being honest, aside from work, that’s the best part about the whole thing. I’d never known that falling in love could be so… freeing. And Tim Bayliss is the most wonderful man I’ve ever met. Who knew that six months of long distance would _work_ in our favour?

Ray is taking the first driving shift, and, as any long road trip starts, we stop at a drive thru.

“You’re sure this is a good idea, Ray?” Dad asked as we pulled into the parking lot. Easier to go in and order since the moving van was wide and too tall for the actual drive thru lane.

“Ben, I promise you that every road trip starts with coffee and breakfast sandwiches,” he got out of the truck and jumped down. “You wanna come in with me? If not, that’s cool. I won’t be too long.”

“I’ll stay and stretch my legs,” he nodded.

“Abby?”

“I’m good, I’ll stretch my legs too.” We get out of the van and actually do what we said we would. But I notice something different in Dad’s demeanour. He’s lost in thought again, but I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Hey, uh, when did Dief decide he wanted to stay with Mrs. Schwartz?”

“A few days ago. Ten hours in a moving van would have been too much for him,” Dad dropped forward and stretched. “Plus you know how he is with junk food. We’d have to stop more than we’re currently planning because his stomach would be terribly upset.”

Uh huh. Somehow I didn’t quite believe that.

Ray returned a few minutes later carrying a tray and a bag with our “on the road” breakfasts. Once we were back in the van, it was a fairly smooth beginning to our trip. Ray had even noticed that I wasn’t eating meat, so my breakfast sandwich was simply egg and cheese. Perfect.

We spend our journey playing the typical road games. I Spy, counting how many license plates we can find from different states, _Mad Libs,_ funny stories… we even dig into Ray’s stash of tapes and put one in. Soon, we’re all imitating the scene from _Wayne’s World_ and belting out _Bohemian Rhapsody,_ then _Radio Ga Ga_ down the highway. Even Dad is singing along.

All in all, we made good time. Having left Chicago at just after seven in the morning, we got to our hotel at about half past five in the evening. Exhausted, we parked the van in the underground parking, checked in and fell asleep for a few hours.

The first thing I did when I woke up was reach for the phone.

ooOoo

I opened my front door to the phone ringing. Oh God, if that’s anyone besides Abby, they can go to hell and tell the devil I sent them.

I sighed and went over to the side table and picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Hi Tim!”

Oh thank Christ. It’s Abby, and hers is the sweetest voice I’ve heard all day.

“Hey Abby,” I pinched the bridge of my nose in exhaustion. “You and your Dads get to the hotel alright?”

“Yes, we got in a few hours ago.” She told me. “Just waking up from a nap, although that’s just me. I don’t know if they’re awake, they’re in another room.”

“Gotcha. How did you do for time?”

“Not bad, just about three and a half hours each. We took turns driving.”

“Good call. I don’t know anyone who likes driving for ten hours straight, especially with a moving van.”

“Neither do I.”

I paused and turned my head to sneeze. “Sorry about that.”

“Bless you.”

“Thank you,” I reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a tissue.

“So, for tomorrow, the first showing isn’t until ten, and I thought maybe we could all have breakfast together?”

“I’d like that very much,” I threw the tissue into the wastebasket by the couch, and I felt the tension starting to melt out of my shoulders. I’d thought about that every morning since I’d come back to Baltimore. Not to mention that Abby being in Baltimore for the foreseeable future makes me… almost giddy. “I can come pick you all up at eight? That way we don’t have to rush through breakfast.”

“That sounds perfect, and if I like the apartment, I could put down a deposit.”

One apartment viewing? That’s it? It sounds an awful lot like putting all her eggs in one basket, but you never know. Sometimes apartments have a way of saying ‘yeah, you’re mine now.’ Although, it could be said that that’s what she’s doing with me and our relationship. Thank God she’s willing to make a leap.

“Breakfast first, _then_ apartment hunting,” I smiled. “I’m glad you’re in Baltimore, Abby.”

“So am I, Tim,” I could hear the smile in her voice as well. “I start at my new office on Wednesday, which, if everything goes according to plan, gives me about five days from today to settle in. I won’t be able to unpack everything immediately, but that’s not a hardship.”

I leaned my head back against the couch, listening to the sound of her voice. Despite how rough the day has been, hearing her speak has been the highlight of it all. Frank and I had been working on a case of a man having been buried alive, and we were still trying to figure out who might have heard or seen anything. Still no luck.

“I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I could feel my eyes closing, but I didn’t want to just fall asleep without saying good night. “Where are the showings that you’ve booked for tomorrow?”

“Um…” I hear her rummaging. “Sorry, I need to find my file folder with all that information. It’s… oh shit, where’s that file folder?” She’s either jumped off the bed or out of the hotel desk chair and has catapulted herself onto the floor. “Okay, probably in my backpack… ah ha!”

I chuckled. I could hear the excitement in her voice as she rattled off an intersection that wasn’t too far from my place in Fell’s Point. The second one was near the Lord Baltimore hotel.

“I’m hoping for either of those, since they’re perfect for my budget.”

“Have you got a third option?”

“Yes, but that’s only if these first two don’t work out. _If_ the first two aren’t right, then I will stay at the hotel for another week while I keep combing through apartment listings.”

It’s taking everything in my power not to repeat my offer of moving in with me again.

“Oh, there’s a knock on my door. I think that might be Dad. The plan was that we’d all go for dinner in the dining room tonight. Did you want to join us?”

That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, even if I’m exhausted. Still, she’s not too far away. I’m still okay to drive.

“I’d like that,” I answer.

“And you know what? I just had an idea. Why don’t you come for dinner and stay tonight? That way we can all be ready to go for eight and no one has to get up incredibly early.”

“That’s perfect. You’re at the Lord Baltimore again?”

“Yes indeed. Just call Room 509 and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“That’s perfect.” And it is. “I’ll see you… half an hour?”

“I’ll see you then. I love you.”

“I love you too. See you soon.” I hang up and grab the overnight bag I always keep packed in my closet before locking up the apartment and driving toward the Lord Baltimore.

ooOoo

“Tim’s coming to have dinner with us tonight, and then I thought we could have breakfast together?”

We’re all gathered in Abby’s room, and she’s a little nervous to ask us this question. She doesn’t need to be, though. I understand what it’s like to be in love with someone, and needing time together.

“Sounds great, sweetie,” I tell her. “Although are you sure you want us all there? You haven’t seen Tim since August.”

“I know, but you drove all the way out here with me just so you could help me find a place to live. I don’t want to leave you out of things.”

“That’s sweet of you, but you should really have this time with Tim tonight,” I insisted, looking over at Ben, who gave me a slight nod. “Your Dad and I are grown ups, we can entertain ourselves.”

“Debatable.”

“What do you mean, debatable?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Are you sassing me, young lady?”

“Of course I’m sassing you.”

“Just checking.”

“Ha ha,” she let out. “Are you sure you two don’t just want to order pizza to your room and not see me for a little while?”

“Of course that’s what we want. We’ve already been in each other’s faces for over ten hours today. Why don’t you enjoy dinner with Tim, and tell the staff to put it on our room bill?”

She gasped. “You don’t _have_ to.”

“We want to,” Ben interjected. “Just because we’re here doesn’t mean that you and Tim shouldn’t spend time together.”

“So you’re going to buy us dinner? You’re both incredibly sweet and I love you.”

“Sweet? I’m never sweet, you take that back.” I’m trying not to let my emotions get the best of me. Even though I wasn’t a part of her life when she was young, Abby feels like my daughter in every sense of the word. As much as I understand that she’s growing up, it’s hurting me to see her go.

ooOoo

I walk in the door of the Lord Baltimore (I can’t bring myself to call it ‘The Raddison’), and I see Ben and Ray waiting with Abby, who’s wearing the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.

“You’re here!” she speed walks toward me and hugs me tightly, tilting her head up for a kiss. “I’m so glad to see you!”

Holding her again is the best feeling. There weren’t words enough to express the way that I felt, but I think she knew anyway.

“Welcome home, Abby,” I whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek.

She gasped. “You said home.”

“I did,” I put my arm around her shoulder and we walk toward Ben and Ray. “Where are we eating tonight?”

“ _We’re_ eating in the dining room, meaning the two of us,” she smiled again.

“Just the two of us?”

“Yeah, you and Abby are having dinner on us tonight,” Ray extends his hand. “Ben and I are going to order pizza and eat in our room.”

I blinked. “Thank you both,” I shook Ray’s hand and extended the offer to Ben. “I don’t know what to say. That’s incredibly generous.”

“You’re one of us, now,” Ben squeezed my hand, and I can tell that he is sincere. “So, you two, please, be our guests. We’ll see you again for breakfast at eight o’clock.”

The two of them walked away, leaving Abby and I to walk into the restaurant alone.

ooOoo

The next morning saw Dad, Ray, Tim, and I all pile into Tim’s car and off toward the first appointment. It was in Fell’s Point, a few blocks away from the precinct, and The Waterfront.

We pull up to the building, which looks almost historical, and meet the landlady, who, if I wasn’t mistaken, could be Mrs. Schwartz’s doppelganger. Strange. _But_ , that could turn out to be a good thing. She seemed eager to show me the apartment, and was very impressed with the fact that I had both a reference letter and a written job offer.

She takes us up to the fifth floor, and unlocks the door to the apartment.

It’s small, and unfurnished, but there’s a bedroom with a door, and a walk in closet. Plus, the living room is fairly spacious, and there’s laundry down in the basement, same as the one at Dad’s apartment. I can’t help but see all of this as a good sign.

“Do you have any pets, dear?” the landlady, named Doreen Norton, asks as we all wonder around the apartment. The more I see of it, the more I’m falling in love. Everything seems right about this place, right down to the placement of the fridge in the kitchen.

“Not yet, but I’d like to at some point.” I’m not sure I should look at the other apartment, especially since I’m already starting to feel at home. “I have one other apartment to see today, Mrs. Norton, but I will let you know one way or the other as soon as I can. How does that sound?”

“That sounds perfect to me, Abigail.”

I hand her my business card so she knows that I will be back. “Thank you for showing us. We’ll speak soon.”

We all file out of the apartment and wait as Mrs. Norton locks it up. She leads us down the stairs and back outside the building. We bid her a cheerful goodbye and get back in the car.

“What did you think?” I ask as Tim pulls away from the curb.

“I thought it was a very handsome apartment,” Dad says. “It’s very much like our apartment in Chicago, only slightly smaller as this one is a one bedroom.”

Ah, so it’s _not_ just me.

“And you know something else?” I say this more for Dad and Ray’s benefit. “It’s close to Tim’s precinct and The Waterfront…”

“Oh yeah?” Ray responded. “Does that mean you’ll be moonlighting behind the bar?”

“Nope, never again,” I chuckled and shook my head. I’d worked at the campus pub both as a server and behind the bar during college, and I’d had enough of that. “I might take a few dance classes, actually. See if there’s any studio out here who will take me.”

“For what? Are you looking to teach?”

“No way, I’m nowhere _near_ qualified to teach,” I looked behind me to see Dad looking out the window. “No, I’d like to do exhibitions if I could.”

“Don’t see why you couldn’t,” Tim pulled up into the parking lot of the next apartment building. “Maybe you could help me refresh my memory, after seeing you Jive in the bar and then... what did you do with Munch?”

“Tango,” I smiled. Thank God he knew there were different styles of dances. “I was surprised, actually. Munch is fairly light on his feet for someone as tall as he is.”

Dad’s head turned so fast I’m surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

Ray, ever observant, noticed that. “Who’s Munch?” he interjected.

“John Munch. One of my partners in the bar, as well as a colleague in the Homicide unit,” Tim glanced in his rear view mirror. “It’s been a while since my high school dance classes. I’d love to get started again.”

“Is that just because I dance?”

“No, not entirely. Just one of the reasons.” He parked and we all got out of the car. “I remember you telling me that it’s also good stress relief.”

“It is, and so is boxing. I’ll have to find a gym as well. I miss sparing with you, Ray.”

“You do?” He sounded genuinely surprised as we opened the door to be greeted by the building manager. “Never thought I’d hear that as we’re looking at apartments.”

“Ah well, there’s not much I won’t say at seemingly surprising times,” I shrugged as I shook the building manager’s hand. “Hello, I’m Abby.”

The guy grunts at me. “Guess you want to see the place, huh?”

“Yes, that’d be nice, thanks.”

And already I can tell that we’re not off to a good start. I grasp Tim’s hand quickly for reassurance as we climb the stairs. Even in the middle of the morning, it’s loud, and the hallway smells like stale water and mildew.

The building manager unlocks the apartment door, and shows us a cramped, moth eaten apartment with a window that’s not even big enough for me to fit through should I need to get to the fire escape in a hurry. The bathroom is rife with black mould, and the countertop in the kitchen looks like it’s been shot through with a Nine millimeter handgun. Dad and I exchange horrified glances as Tim steps in front of me, lest this guy try to have a go at me when I tell him that I’m not taking the apartment.

“It’s a steal for the price.” The building manager tells me.

“I’m sure it is, but it’s not for me,” I tell him as I hurry out the door. “Thank you for taking the time out of your day, but like I said, it’s not the apartment for me.” I shake his hand and calmly walk down the stairs back out to the car. Dad, Ray, and Tim are all on my heels.

“Well that was a disappointment,” Ray says as we all buckle up and drive away. “I don’t know in what land of make believe someone thinks that an apartment in that kind of condition is worthy of showings.”

“I got a lecherous feeling from the building manager as well,” Dad chimes in. “Tim, I’m quite glad you were standing in front of Abby for as long as you were.”

“Ah well, the entire building made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, so I figured that was the best way to go about things,” Tim signaled and turned a corner back to the hotel. “Were those the only two showings for today?”

“For today, yes, there’s only so much searching you can do when you’re not in the actual city. I was going to grab the paper and keep looking tonight.”

Tim nodded. “I grabbed a copy after breakfast this morning. Not sure where it is, though. Check under your seat?”

I’m not sure who he’s addressing, so I look at the same time Dad and Ray do.

“Is this it?” Dad holds up a folded paper so Tim can see it in the rear view mirror.

“Yes sir,” Tim answers, and winces.

That’s when I realized that he still didn’t know what to call Dad out loud. He couldn’t call him ‘Sir’ forever, especially since they were the same age.

“You know, Tim, you may call me Ben if you like.”

I blinked and turned around in my seat. I’d _never_ heard Dad give anyone outside of family, Ray, and Uncle Ray permission to call him Ben before. Even Grandmother and Grandfather still called him Benton. Then again, I think that was because they’d always known him as Benton and damned if they were going to change what they called him now.

“Thank you sir… uh, Ben,” Tim gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove into the underground parking.

In the end, I called Doreen Norton and accepted the first apartment I’d seen. She’d been thrilled, and told me that I could move in on the Monday, two days later.

ooOoo

I went into work on Monday morning, grinning from ear to ear. Abby was actually in Baltimore, I didn’t have to count down the days until I saw her again. If we wanted to see each other, we simply had to pick up the phone.

I’m heading over there when my shift is over, provided the sky does not fall. Since I wasn’t able to help her move everything in, I want to at least be able to help her unpack and decorate.

“What are you smiling about?” Frank asks as I come in and hang my coat up.

“Abby moves into her new place today,” I’ve been smiling so much my cheeks hurt. “I’m going over tonight to help her settle in.”

“Abby’s here? In Baltimore?”

“Didn’t I just say that?” I pick up the file sitting on my desk. “She got a transfer here for work. Anyway, what do we have on the Acton case?”

A look of relief crosses Frank’s face. He’s most comfortable when we talked about work. The only time I’d ever seen him a little more open was when he’d told me Mary was pregnant and when Olivia was born, but he seems more withdrawn lately.

“Okay, looks like we’re still trying to find a connection between the cellphone and who might have heard Acton calling for help.” I clear my throat and turn my attention back to our case. “But so far there’s still not any leads.”

“Hmm,” Frank shrugs in response. “What about the cellphone records?”

“Phone records?” I sit back down at my desk, and sure enough, there’s a package from Laura Ballard sitting on my desk.

There’s our link. Acton bought his cell phone from a specific spy shop. It’s not much, but it’s at least something.

ooOoo

It doesn’t feel real. Dad and Ray are back at the hotel for the night as I continue unpacking and decorating. I dig into a box labelled “Abby- PHOTOS, ALARM CLOCK, SEWING KIT”, and set to putting them in their proper place. As though they have a proper place yet.

The photos of my Mom and Dad, Dad and Ray, my grandparents, and Tim and I should all be on prominent display, especially since they are the most important people in my life. I put the one of Tim and I by the bed, and the others are all going to be in the living room or maybe on the table, I don’t know quite yet.

Just as I put the sewing kit on the corner of my dresser, I hear my buzzer.

It’s got to be Tim. I’m not expecting anyone else. Never mind that I’m gross and sweaty from moving and probably look like I’ve been hit by a truck of hot garbage juice. He probably won’t care, he’s seen me look worse.

I buzz him up and go looking for a glass of water. Moving is hard work, and I’m thirsty.

He knocks, and I go to answer the door, pulling my hair up into a ponytail as I do.

Tim is on the other side of the door, smiling.

“Come in, come in!” I smile back and get out of the way. “Sorry for the mess, I’m still unpacking.”

“Now that you’ve got your pictures up, I guess it’s starting to feel more like home, huh?”

“Yeah, as much as a new apartment can, I guess.” I hugged him tightly as soon as he hung his coat up in the closet. “Sorry, I’m all gross and sweaty from moving. Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, I’m okay,” he squeezed me tightly in response. “What I would like is to kiss you, though.”

“Well I don’t have any objection to that at all.” My heart was trying to beat its way out of my chest as he bent down and did just that.

When he pulled away, his pupils were blown with arousal, as I’m sure mine were as well.

“Bedroom?” he breathed.

There was no need to ask. I knew that was exactly where we were heading. Apartment hunting wasn’t exactly a great catalyst for love making, and I hadn’t seen him for six weeks before that.

I grab his hand and lead him. I close the door and snick the lock closed.

Later, we’re curled up together until my duvet, listening to the sounds of the apartment settling around us. Tim is a furnace, radiating heat and keeping me warm.

“I love you,” I whispered. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Tim pulled me close. “And I’m thrilled you’ve got this place. I’m only sorry I couldn’t help you move everything today.”

“Don’t be sorry, you’re here now. That’s what matters.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “Although I should probably give you the rest of the tour at some point.”

“At some point,” he agreed. “It doesn’t have to be now.”

“I wasn’t planning on it being now,” I rolled over and reached for a tissue to blow my nose. “I’m happy to spend the rest of the night here with you.” I tossed the tissue into the wastebasket. “Actually, I have something to show you. See that picture frame?”

Tim glanced over at the night stand and grabbed the frame that held the picture of us from Fort McHenry.

“Ah,” he smiled. “This is still my favourite photo of the two of us.”

“Mine too. I think it was just after that photo was taken that I realized how I felt about you,” I reached over and ran my finger along Tim’s jawline.

“Is that why it’s here in the bedroom?”

“Partly the reason. I’ve got other photos all around the apartment. When we’re ready to get up I’ll show them to you.”

He nods. “When we’re ready.”

ooOoo

Later that night, we’re cuddled on the couch, each of us with a cup of herbal tea, and, as promised, Abby is showing me family photos. I can see from these photos how important family is to her, and she’s incredibly lucky to have a family that cares so much. I’m surprised at the amount of photos she has on display; I thought there’d be a lot more. So far there’s only the one of her Mom and Dad, one of her Dad and Ray, her grandparents, and another one of her… I’m guessing her aunt and uncle and cousins? But that doesn’t seem possible; the kids are so _tiny_. They can’t be much older than my cousin Jim’s kids.

“What’s this one?” I take a sip of my tea and run my finger along the frame.

Abby sits up. “Oh. That one is of my aunt and uncle and their kids.”

“Your mom’s brother?”

“Yes,” she’s gritting her teeth slightly. “I don’t speak to my uncle anymore but my aunt and I still talk. She sends me updates and photos if I ask, and my cousins are always excited to have a chance to talk over the phone.”

“What happened there?”

“What happened where?” Okay, definitely a touchy subject. “Not much to tell, really. My uncle is a dick. He treated my Dad like shit for over twenty years.”

“What did he do?”

“Innusiq, that’s my uncle’s name, he basically told me that he regrets the fact that I’m alive. That if my Dad hadn’t gotten my Mom pregnant, she’d still be here. And he started telling his children that my Dad was the Devil incarnate.”

I blinked.

“I didn’t much care when he said those things to me, because I knew the truth, that my dad was not a terrible human being. I knew that Innusiq had no use for my Dad, and it’d been that way since I was born. But the fact that he was saying these things to his children, even though they’d never met him… I was floored.”

I was floored too, and, at the same time, glad that her uncle was still… however many miles away. Because I think I would have knocked his teeth in.

“So, because my dad hadn’t come with me and probably wouldn’t have defended himself, I asked my uncle to join me away from the dinner table, and proceeded to tear him a new asshole for speaking that way about my Dad. A few months after that, he called us in Chicago.”

“I’m guessing that was a rare occurrence?”

“He’d never called us in Chicago before, and even more strange was the fact that he wanted to talk to my Dad. And that’s when he ‘forgave’ Dad and actually started treating him like a human being.”

God, poor Ben. To have lived with that sort of hatred being flung at you for over twenty years, and still be as welcoming to me as he was…

“Anyway, until I see and hear from Innusiq that his apology and ‘forgiveness’ is genuine, I will choose to stay connected at a distance. That being said, I don’t want Grace and Jonathan…” she pointed to the two little kids dressed in their warmest snowsuits. “I don’t want them to grow up feeling as though they are responsible for my silence. So, by mutual agreement, my aunt, her name is Sheila, and I still talk, and she sends me updates.”

“That seems reasonable,” I agreed. And better for everyone’s health if this was how her uncle chose to act. “But your grandparents, they don’t see it that way?”

“Not at all, they took my Dad and I in when he had lost nearly everything.” A lot of people said that before, but I didn’t think Abby was exaggerating. “Here he was, a sixteen year old widower with a new baby, his own mother having died when he was six. My grandad Bob wasn’t speaking to him, and my great-grandparents had moved further north and were in no condition to help.” Abby leaned over and gently tugged the photo out of my hands. “We lived with my grandparents until I was eleven, so we’ve always been close.”

“Do you still see them?”

“Not as much as I’d like to, but I’m saving up to visit again sometime this year. It’s easier if I go to them because it’s a long trek.”

“How long does it take?”

“Four planes and twenty four hours,” She shrugged her shoulders. “But trust me, Grandmother and Grandfather are the best people I know, aside from Dad. And I’d love for you to meet them.”

“I’d like to meet them too,” I answered, putting my mug down on a coaster. “Especially if they helped raise you.”

“Are you prepared to spend over a day on a plane if we do go? It’ll be a few months before I can afford it, but I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t really believe that they should meet you.”

“It can’t be any worse than working a full twenty four hours straight because you’ve backed into a red-ball.”

“I wouldn’t know as that’s not my basis for comparison,” Abby pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it over our legs. “I haven’t called them for a while. I probably should.”

“Speaking of meeting family,” it was a perfect opportunity. “I’ve met your Dad and Ray, but you haven’t met any of my family yet.”

It was her turn to blink. “You’re right, I haven’t. I know you’re an only child, but you’ve always been close with your cousin. Do you mean meeting them?”

“Not yet, I was thinking, maybe you’d like to meet my mother?”

She smiled, and it went all the way up to her eyes. “That’d be lovely. When does she want us to come over?”

“Sometime in the next few weeks. She doesn’t want to rush you while you’re getting settled in.”

“I like her already. Very astute.”

We laughed together, and settled down on the couch again, turning on the obviously new TV to an old rerun of M.A.S.H.

I could definitely get used to this.

ooOoo

We’ve been trying for the last five months to nail down a date to have dinner with Tim’s mother, but for reasons unbeknownst to me, she keeps canceling.

“Do you know something, Tim?” I ask as we move around the living room, repositioning the couch. “I’m beginning to think that your mother doesn’t like me.”

“Why would you say that?” he looked puzzled. “She hasn’t even met you.”

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Uh, yeah. That’s the point.”

In the last five months, Tim’s lease on his old apartment has run out, and he has moved in with me. Mrs. Norton is delighted, as she now has a police officer living in the building. It’s just a shame that Tim’s mother can’t seem to share her joy.

Tim looked like a fish caught on a line for just a second.

“I could call my Mom tonight and see when she’s next available?” He offers as we each grab the end of the blanket I keep on the back of the couch to fold it.

“I’d like that. You and I have been together for nearly a year. It’s a wonder your mother doesn’t think that I’m a figment of your imagination.”

“Maybe she does,” we move in unison to fold the blanket. “After all, you’re absolutely perfect already.”

“Stop distracting me with compliments. Anyone would think you have an ulterior motive.”

Tim’s raises his eyebrow in response. “Maybe I do.”

“Oh yeah?” I can tell it’s a game now, and I’m quite liking it. “What’s your ulterior motive then?”

“Well that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes it would. Tell me. Tell me, tell me.”

He chuckles. “Alright then. Here’s what happened today. Ironically, it was a paperwork heavy day, and the phone didn’t ring for me once.”

“Okay…” this is a bit strange. Since we’d moved in together, there hadn’t been a day where he hadn’t come home exhausted from a new case dropping in his lap or following up a lead on an open case that he was already working on. “The phone didn’t ring in terms of a new case or it just didn’t ring at all?”

“In terms of a new case,” he clarified. “The one time it did ring was a call from the K-9 unit.”

“What?” This was not going where I thought it was going. “Why would they call you?”

“I’ve had my name down to adopt a dog should they not be a good fit for the police academy,” he tells me. “I was getting lonely and put my name down before I’d met you.”

“Okay, well I think that’s a great idea, I’d like to have a dog, and you know as well as I do that Mrs. Norton has no objection to pets.” We finish folding the blanket and set it to rights before I bend and pick up the laundry basket. “But you changed the subject. Weren’t we talking about having dinner with your mother?”

“We were, but we haven’t set anything up yet so what would be the point of going on about it until we have a set date and plan?”

Well _that_ escalated quickly. “Tim, are you nervous about me meeting your mother?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Because you’re snapping at me,” I took a shirt out of the laundry basket and shook it to make sure the wrinkles were gone. “This is one of yours.”

He looked slightly taken aback. “I’m glad your argument is with my shirt and not me at the moment.”

“Who says it’s not with you?” I fold the shirt and lay it down beside the basket on the couch. “Are you ashamed of me? Are you ashamed of your mother and what her reaction might be?”

“Her reaction to what? How perfect you are?”

Okay, that would earn him a _slight_ snigger. “You’re trying to butter me up again.”

“Is it working this time?”

“It will,” I put my hands on his shoulders and made him turn around toward the phone on the other side of the living room. “When you pick up the damn phone.”

“Bossy.”

“Yeah, you love it,” I pushed on his back to propel him forward. “Go call your mother.”

ooOoo

I do as Abby asks, and I pick up the phone. I hesitate for a moment. I hadn’t really thought about the fact that my Mom kept canceling on us. Now I was concerned that something was going on that I hadn’t been paying attention to. Not only had she not met Abby, I hadn’t seen her for a couple of months. Was she ill? Had something happened and she hadn’t told me about it?

I swallow thickly and dial her number.

She lets it ring three times before answering. “Hello?”

“Hi Mom,” I greet her.

“Oh hello Tim!” I can hear the false lift in her voice. “I’m glad you called, it’s good to hear your voice.”

“You too,” I assure her. “How are you? Are you doing alright?”

“Fine, why do you ask?”

“I only wondered because I haven’t seen you for a few months.”

“Please don’t worry, my love. I know you’ve been busy.”

“Still, I’m never too busy for my mother,” I insist. “Which brings me to the reason I’m calling.”

“I had wondered. I thought you might be at work.”

“Lucky for me I just put a case down last night,” I can tell she’s trying to change the subject. “I wondered if you had any time available next week for us to have dinner together.”

“Us?”

“You, me, and Abby. She’s really anxious to meet you.”

“I see,” her voice was clipped. “So it’s serious, then?”

That seems harsh. “Yes, of course it’s serious. We’ve been together for nearly a year. Why would you think it’s not serious?”

“No reason.”

Right, sure. She’s backtracking. And I’m not liking her answers here either. She’s not usually this short with me.

“Look, Abby told me herself that she’s beginning to think that you don’t like her.”

“I have no opinion about her, Tim. I’ve never met her.”

“Precisely,” I find myself echoing Abby’s earlier sentiment. “So why don’t we remedy that? Is there a day next week that works for you?”

Mom is quiet for a moment. “How about next Friday evening, around seven-thirty? You could come over here.”

“Hold on a second,” I put my hand over the mouthpiece and turn to see Abby finishing folding the laundry. “Hey, Abby? How is next Friday night for dinner with my Mom?”

She looks up and stops folding for a moment. “Sounds good to me. Does she want us to bring anything?”

I repeat Abby’s question into the phone.

“Why don’t you bring some wine? Or a dessert?”

“Which are you more likely to enjoy?” It’s been a while since we’ve had dinner like this, and her tastes may have changed. “I seem to remember that the last time we had dinner together we had apple pie. Would you want that again?”

“That would be wonderful.” Mom agrees, and the false lift in her voice has been replaced by genuine happiness. “I’ll make crab cakes if that suits you.”

“Sounds perfect. So seven-thirty on Friday, yes?”

“Seven-thirty on Friday,” Mom confirms. “I’ll see you then, Tim. Love you.”

“Love you too, Mom. See you both then.”

As I hang up, I see Abby carrying the laundry basket back toward the bedroom. I follow her and smile as I pick up the pile of folded socks and shirts and put them away.

“You’re lucky I know how to make apple pie,” she smirks as she grabs hangers from the closet and hangs my collared shirts and pants back up. “Anyway, I’m glad we’re finally going to have dinner with her. From what you’ve told me, she’s a sweet lady.”

“She is, although I’m a little worried.”

“Worried? Why?”

“Our entire conversation was clipped and scattered, and she’s not normally like that.”

“Maybe she’s nervous?”

“That could be. I haven’t brought anyone home to meet her in quite a while,” I sit down on the bed, moving the laundry basket to the floor as she hangs the rest of my suits that had gone through the wash.

“How long is a while?”

“ _Years,”_ I answer. “The first thing she asked me was if we were serious.”

She blinks and sits down on the bed beside me. “Well we’ve moved in together and we’re talking about adopting a dog. It’s pretty damn serious to me.”

“Me too,” I put my arm around her shoulder and hold her close. “I’m so lucky you walked into the bar that night.”

“Don’t think I would have met you otherwise.” She turned her head and kissed my cheek. “Come on, let me show you a few dance moves.”

ooOoo

We’re both nervous as we pull into the driveway of Tim’s mother, Virginia’s house. I’ve never had introductions to a lover’s family like this before. I can only hope she likes me.

I grab the apple pie we’d promised to bring from the back of the car and walk up to the door.

Tim knocks, and we’re greeted to the sight of Virginia in her apron.

“Hello!” She opens the door fully and smiles. “Come in. Hello!”

“Hi Mom,” Tim bends and kisses her cheek as I walk in behind him. “Something smells good.”

“Crab cakes, just like I promised,” she puts a hand on his cheek and smiles again. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you too,” he answers as he steps out of the way. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Abby.”

She stops for a moment and looks me up and down. Clearly I was not what she was expecting. Never mind the age difference between Tim and I, I’m sure she didn’t expect her son to bring home someone who was so clearly “other”.

“Welcome, Abby,” she covers it well and holds out her hand.

I accept the gesture, and am more than a little surprised at how firm her handshake is. “Thank you, Mrs. Bayliss. I'm so happy to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” she nods and looks at the dessert in my hands. “Can I take anything for you?”

“Tim mentioned you liked apple pie,” I hold it out to her.

“Thank you kindly, Abby.” She takes it from me and backs up to give me space to take off my coat and shoes. “Take your coat off, stay a while. Can I get you something to drink?”

I clear my throat. “Water would be lovely, Mrs. Bayliss, thank you.”

“No trouble at all. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be right back.”

Tim’s mother disappears back into the kitchen almost as quickly as she appeared in the doorway, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders.

“Oh God, was I too forward?” I ask Tim as I follow him to the living room.

"No, no, not at all,” he turns and puts his hands on my shoulders. “You’re doing fine.”

“Okay…” I nod as I glance back to see Virginia coming back with two glasses of water.

“Here you are, Abby,” she hands one to me and another to Tim. “Now please, come sit and tell me a little about yourself.”

I do, but I’m so nervous I don’t know what to say. I think Virginia can sense that.

“What would you like to know?” I start with. I don’t want to give too much away, especially if I say something unexpected. I’ll let her take the lead.

“Why don’t we start with where you grew up.” I had a feeling she might start there.

“Um…” I clear my throat. “I moved to Chicago when I was twelve, but before that I lived in the Northwest Territories with my dad and grandparents.”

Virginia’s eyes go wide. “You’re Canadian?”

“Yes ma’am,” I nod. “My dad is RCMP, so while I’ve lived in America for over ten years, we’re still considered Canadian.”

“I see,” Virginia moves to get up. “I forgot to get myself some water as well.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” Tim assures her, and gets up.

As he disappears into the kitchen, Virginia turns her attention back to me.

“How did you and Tim meet? Are you also a police officer?”

“Oh no,” I chuckle and shake my head. “No, I knew that, with my dad being RCMP, that was definitely not the career I wanted. No, I work in publishing.”

“Oh,” she nods. “So then, if your paths didn’t cross through work, how did you meet?”

“I was on holiday in Baltimore, actually,” I answer. “And I’d just gotten off the plane, checked into my hotel room and wanted to find something to eat. So the cab took me to the Waterfront.”

“I see, and what happened then?”

“If I’m being honest, I didn’t actually talk to him at first,” I see Tim coming back into the room and wait as he hands the glass to Virginia. “He was behind the bar doing… whatever you were doing, I’ve forgotten now,” I turn my attention to him for a moment. “And I went to sit down with a drink and my dinner when I was very rudely interrupted.”

Virginia takes a sip of water and leans forward. “What happened next?”

I recount the story for her, cleaning up the language. I don’t want to say the phrase “Douchebag McAsshat” in front of her, as I don’t know how she’ll react. I stop short of telling her that I slept in Tim’s bed that first night, but I think she can tell I’m leaving a few things out.

“That’s a very sweet story,” she says. “Although I’m sincerely glad that you weren’t hurt in that confrontation, Abby.”

“Oh believe me, if it had gone any longer, Tim would have had to be hauling me off the guy.” I smile at them both. “I was right in his face, especially for him calling me a racial slur and being rude when I rejected his advances.”

“A bar fight?” She seems surprised.

“Oh no, that was the last thing I wanted, but if push had come to shove, I would have,” Tim grips my shoulder for a second. “That being said, I’m a trained boxer, Mrs. Bayliss,” I tell her, hoping it will keep her from panicking. “I can hold my own in a fight and can protect myself at the same time. Both my stepdad and my uncle made sure I kept up with those techniques.”

“Oh…” I can tell by her tone of voice that she most definitely was not expecting to hear that. “So, let me see if I have this straight. You’re Canadian…”

“Yes.”

“You work in publishing…” she’s counting the things I told her off on her fingers.

“Yes.”

“And you’re a trained boxer.”

I clear my throat. “Correct.”

We’re interrupted by the oven timer buzzing. Virginia gets up and almost sprints to the kitchen, making sure that she takes her glass with her as she goes.

I turn to Tim and bite my lip to keep my jaw from dropping.

“I’ve blown it, haven’t I?” I manage.

“No, not at all, but I’ll admit that I’m surprised the boxing came out before the ballroom dancing.”

“Damn, I should have led with that.” I put my head in my hands for a moment. “I hope I haven’t blown it.” I repeat. “I’d really like for her to like me.”

Tim pulls me to him. “I don’t think you need to worry, I’m sure she’s just as nervous. I’ve never seen her leave the room so quickly when the oven buzzed.”

“Oh… okay… that’s great.” I breathed. “You look like her, you know.”

“I do?” His brow furrows. “Hold on…”

He goes over to the fireplace and grabs a photo from the mantle.

“Here, I don’t think I’ve shown you this yet.”

I take the photo and study it. I can already see it’s of Tim and his parents. It must have been taken when he was about sixteen. He and his dad were so much taller than Virginia, but all in all, I still think he inherited a lot more from his mother.

“No, you’re right, I stand corrected.” I hand the photo back. “I’m sorry to not have met your dad, though.”

Tim’s hand tightens momentarily on the picture frame. “Please don’t be.” His tone is bitter. “We didn’t exactly see eye to eye, or have the closest of relationships. Really, it all went downhill when I was eight.”

I refrain from answering that it sounds very similar to my dad’s relationship with my Grandad Bob, because it won’t do any good. Instead, I clear my throat and wipe my hand on my pants. 

“Tim? Abby?” I hear Virginia call from the kitchen. “Supper’s up.”

That’s the best news I’ve heard since we got here. I’m suddenly ravenous, and the crab cakes she mentioned smell absolutely divine.

ooOoo

I hadn’t meant to sound so bitter when Abby brought up the subject of my dad. Granted, I hadn’t told her about him, or what had happened when I was eight that caused such a fracture in our relationship. I’m not exactly sure she would understand, as I’ve seen how close she is with her own father. I’m not even sure my mother knows the full story. After all, she’d never understood why I’d cry at every family gathering, and it was even worse after I tried to tell my dad. If Abby asks, I don’t know how to tell her. What if she doesn’t believe me?

God, I sound like I’m eight years old again. Never mind that now, I chide myself. We’re here at my mom’s for dinner, and that’s what we should focus on. Besides, it’s been too long since I’ve been over, and I don’t want to waste it.

“You ready?” I ask as my mom calls us up.

“Absolutely. It smells delicious,” Abby smiles at me as she stands up. We go into the kitchen and stand around the table. Mom has really outdone herself. There are the crab cakes, like she mentioned, plus salad and baked potatoes.

“Come sit,” Mom tells us, and I pull Abby’s chair out for her. I do the same for Mom before I seat myself. “Thank you, love.”

I smile and squeeze Mom’s shoulder.

“Go ahead, start,” Mom offers to Abby.

We pass plates around the table, and I can see that Mom is itching to ask Abby more questions. Approval dinners with parents are always awkward, no matter how old you are.

“This looks incredible, Mrs. Bayliss,” Abby says. “You know, this is what I ordered at the Waterfront the night we met, Tim.”

Oh yeah, now I remember! “Unfortunately you didn’t really get a chance to enjoy it because of what happened.” I cut into my own crab cake and take a bite. “Wow! Mom, this is delicious!”

“True enough, I didn’t,” Abby smiles and mimics me. “Mmm. This is amazing!”

I see Mom blush slightly. “I take it you don’t eat crab all that often, Abby?”

“Not crab, no,” she answers. “When my dad and I were in the Territories, it was whatever we could hunt and bring home, then preserve and can. Everything is at least three times more expensive, which is why my family always lived by the ‘waste not, want not’ principle.”

Mom clears her throat. She’s always been on a budget, and she made sure I understood how to balance a cheque book and make a budget of my own. I’m sure she’s happy to hear that Abby can stick to one as well. “I didn’t realize you were from so far north. Do you still have family there?”

“Yes,” Abby spears a mouthful of salad. “My grandparents and my aunt and uncle are still there. But like I said earlier, my dad and I moved to Chicago when I was twelve.”

“Ah, I see.”

I can’t tell what Mom is really looking for, but I know I shouldn’t interrupt. She wants to get to know Abby, and I’d never speak for Abby unless she’d lost the ability to speak altogether. So, I take a sip of water and offer her my hand under the table.

“I’m curious, though,” Mom starts again.

Abby squeezes my hand in response. “Yes?”

“You’ve mentioned your father, your stepfather, and your grandparents, but I haven’t heard you mention your mother.”

Abby visibly swallows as I clear my throat, giving Mom the side eye.

She notices and gives me what I can only describe as a “Mom look.”

“If that’s a sore subject for you, Abby, I’m sorry. Feel free to tell me to be quiet.”

“Oh, it’s… it’s okay, Mrs. Bayliss,” Abby swallows again. “My mother passed away a long time ago.”

Mom gasps, her hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry to hear that. It must have been difficult.”

“Thank you,” Abby looks down at her plate. “It’s an old wound now. Not as hard to talk about. I had my Dad, and my grandparents. I think I turned out okay.”

Mom blinks and is struggling to get her composure back. “I’m sorry to have brought it up.”

“Please don’t worry, you didn’t know.”

The three of us pick at our dinner in subdued silence. Mom certainly hadn't been expecting that answer and now didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Well, I’m certainly a candidate for ‘mother who made the stupidest comment of the night’ tonight,” Mom chuckles. “I’ll change the subject then. What else do you do for fun, Abby?”

Abby smiles at Mom, and I see Mom’s shoulders relax. “Would you believe that I’m also a trained ballroom dancer?”

The last time I saw Mom with that big a smile on her face was… I actually don’t remember.

“You are? How wonderful!” There’s a look in her eyes that I’ve never seen before. “I’ve always wanted to learn how to ballroom dance.”

“I could show you a few steps after we finish dinner,” Abby offers, and I can tell that Mom is over the moon excited. She’s almost _buzzing._

 _“_ I’d love that, thank you, Abby.”

By the end of the night, Abby has shown both Mom and I the beginning steps of a cha cha cha. Watching her lead Mom around the living room before doing the same with me has left me wondering whether she’s ignoring her calling. She’d told her Dad and Ray that she’s nowhere near qualified to teach and wouldn’t be any good at it. I disagree. In just over two hours, she’s taken the Bayliss’, each born with ‘two left feet’, and shown us that we may be able to move with rhythm after all. Plus, Mom is _laughing_ as we move. I haven’t seen her laugh for a very long time.

By the time we have to leave, we’re all grinning from ear to ear. What started out as a very awkward dinner turned into a success. And it’s all thanks to Abby.

“I’m very happy to have met you, Abby,” Mom says, pulling her close and kissing her cheek. “I can’t wait to continue learning to dance.”

“Give us a call and I’ll be right over, Mrs. Bayliss,” Abby tells her and moves out of the way so that I can say goodbye.

Mom pulls me to her and kisses my cheek, same as she did for Abby. “I like her, Tim. Very much.”

“I’m glad you do, Mom, because I love her.”

“I can see you do,” she pulls back and cups my cheek. “Don’t be strangers. Come see me again soon.”

“Absolutely,” I whisper as I say goodbye and follow Abby back to the car.

I honk twice as we pull out of the driveway and make our way home.

“Well, you’re in,” I quip as I signal a right turn.

Abby chuckles. “I’m so happy, Tim. I really wanted her to like me.”

“She does,” I reassure her. “Especially after you’ve started teaching her something she’s always wanted to learn.”

“I’ll have to call Ray and thank him for being such a good teacher. He kicked my ass all over that dance studio multiple times a day for years. Along with the boxing, he’s mostly responsible for honing my talent in those areas.”

Talk about a perfect opportunity. “Do you ever think about possibly teaching?”

“No, I’m nowhere near qualified,” she repeats her answer from when she first moved to Baltimore. “Plus, publishing has always been my dream, and I’m damn good at what I do.”

“I know you are, I only wondered, because you’re such a good dancer.”

“You can thank Ray for that,” she repeats and smiles cheekily. “Just wait until I teach you the Rumba.”

I’d heard that the Rumba was known as the “Dance of Love”, and very suggestive in its execution. But I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was not talking about the actual ballroom dance itself.

“We’ll be home in a few minutes, you can show me then.”

“Oh I plan to, Tim Bayliss.”

I push the gas pedal to the floor.

ooOoo

It’s been about three weeks since the dinner with Tim’s mom, and things are finally starting to settle down. We still only have the one car, but Tim needs it for work more than I do, so I’ll often take the subway or he’ll drive me to the office before heading to the precinct. Today, though, I’m not feeling so great. My stomach’s been bothering me, so I’ve come home early and am curled up in bed with the hot water bottle Dad gave me a few years ago. I called Tim just before I left work to let him know, in case he worried.

The heat feels nice on my stomach and back, but it doesn’t change the fact that I feel awful. And in order to help myself feel better, I get up and wrap myself in my housecoat, and head to the kitchen to put the kettle on for peppermint tea and getting some saltines out of the cupboard.

I crawl back into bed and I realize how odd it is for me to be feeling this way. I was very rarely sick when I lived in Chicago, and even less when I was in Tulita. I think this is the first time that I’ve felt so helpless.

I don’t even know what time it is. I simply get back into bed and under the blanket. I wake up some time later when I hear the door open.

Tim is home from work, and is sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey love,” he whispers, putting a hand on my shoulder. “How you feeling?”

“Ugh…” I turn over and reposition myself on my back. “If you get the license number of the truck that ran over me, let me know so I can set it on fire.”

“That bad, huh?”

I nod, swallow thickly. I lurch forward, correcting my position and grabbing the sick tray I’d placed there when I’d come back from the kitchen.

“Better out than in,” Tim takes the sick tray from me and walks it to the bathroom. God, I love him. “Any idea what’s up?” He calls as he flushes the toilet and rinses out the tray.

“I think it’s a stomach bug,” I manage as I get back in bed. “Although my period’s also a little late so that could be a factor too.”

The apartment is suddenly too quiet.

“Tim? You okay?”

He comes back into the bedroom, looking like he’s just seen a ghost; all the colour has drained from his face.

“It is?” his voice cracks as he puts the tray back on the nightstand. “Are there… are you having any other symptoms?”

“Symptoms?” I know what he’s trying to ask, but I want him to ask outright instead of dancing around the issue.

He takes a deep breath, and the question tumbles out of his mouth. “Are you pregnant?”

“I don’t know yet,” I reach for a tissue and blow my nose. “I don’t see how I could be, especially since we’ve been using condoms and I’m on birth control. But, if my period doesn’t show up in the next few days I’ll go to the doctor. Fair?”

“Yeah, yeah, that… that sounds good…” he’s stunned, just as I am. “Are we ready?”

“Come sit by me…” I pat the bed. He climbs in beside me, still in his work clothes. “Just not too close, I don’t want you to get sick.” He settles back into the pillows. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It’s too early to tell, okay? And if it turns out that I am, I think we could handle it.”

Right, sure. That’s the same attitude my parents had, and look where _that_ got them.

“Okay,” he shakes his head and looks like he’s coming back to himself. “God, what if it’s true?” He chuckles briefly, and it bubbles up into full blown laughter. “It kind of makes the news I got today pale by comparison.”

“News?” I sit up and push my back up against the pillows. “What do you mean?”

“I heard from the K-9 unit today.”

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a pup who’s failed out of the police academy. He needs a home.”

“Yes.”

His eyes go wide. “Don’t you want to know what kind of dog he is?”

“Nope,” I toss the tissue into the wastebasket. “You said he needs a home. We can give him that.”

I can tell from his expression that he wasn’t expecting me to agree so quickly.

“Do you want to know his name?”

“Of course I do. What’s his name?”

Tim smiles. “Robo.”

“Robo?” I almost can’t believe my ears. “As in, RoboCop?”

He nods, smirking.

“When I meet him I’ll see if we need to change his name. Did the handlers say when we could come and meet him?”

“In the next few days or so, once you’re feeling a little better.”

“Okay…” I answer and reach for another tissue. Even doing that makes my entire body ache. I cough and burrow under the blankets again. “Can you grab me a towel, please?”

“A towel?” Tim’s perplexed.

“I’ll sleep on a towel tonight just in case,” I tell him. “If my period starts tonight, it’s much easier to scrub and wash a towel than it is to scrub menstrual blood out of bed sheets.”

“Has that happened?”

“Multiple times,” I tell him, and I’m glad that he’s not squeamish about it. Although, why would he be squeamish, talking about blood? He’s a detective! He’s seen his fair share of blood and gore. “And I hate cleaning it up. It’s bad enough that I have to bleed every month without trying to clean it out of bed sheets.” I feel my voice getting shaky. “I’m sorry, Tim. I’m tired and hormonal and I feel like crap.”

“Abby, don’t worry, it’s alright,” he gets up and starts getting out of his work clothes. He bends down to kiss my forehead as he undoes his tie. “I’ll grab you a towel, and then I’ll put some soup on the stove. Do you think you can stomach it?”

“I’ll try, I haven’t eaten much today.”

“What _did_ you eat?”

“Since this morning, saltines and peppermint tea.”

Tim makes a quizzical face at me. “You know as well as I do, feed a fever, starve a cold.” He puts a hand on my forehead for good measure. “And that’s definitely a fever. I’ll see if there’s any of the vegetable broth still in the fridge.”

“Bless your mother for giving us that recipe,” I cough and grab the sick tray just in case.

I hear him chuckle once as he heads out to the kitchen.

ooOoo

I go digging in the fridge, hoping that we do still have vegetable broth made up. I don’t like seeing Abby so ill, and the fact that my first thought was that she might be pregnant… it scares me to death.

Don’t get me wrong, I _adore_ children and babies (I spent a lot of time helping Mary out with Olivia after Frank had his stroke), but I can’t help thinking that I’m going to turn into my father. After what happened when I was eight, how could I _not_ be my father’s son? If, please God and all his holy saints forbid, something like that ever happened to my own child, would I have the strength to listen, and do something about it?

Snap out of it, you foolish fool! _Of course_ you’ll be able to do something about it. You’re a Homicide detective, a murder police… how could you not?

I’m so lost in my own thoughts the only thing that brings me back to myself is the sound of Abby coughing. I blink, and see the leftover stir fry staring back at me.

Right, I was looking for soup. I blink again and force my eyes to focus. If I were a container of soup, where in the fridge would I be?

Ah ha, found it! It was in the door. I grab it and pour it into a saucepan. As I turn on the burner, I can’t help thinking that, no matter what I do, every choice I make could be traced back to what happened to me as a kid. I tried to say something, and no one believed me. _If_ Abby is pregnant, could I be the type of parent I never had? Could I be a good partner to her, and still be useful at work?

Maybe I’m really getting ahead of myself. We don’t know if she’s really pregnant, and worrying means suffering twice. I stir the broth and pour it into a mug. It’ll be easier for Abby to drink it than to try and use a bowl and spoon while sitting in bed. Less danger of spillage as well.

I let the mug stand on the counter for a moment as I go looking in the linen closet for a towel. I grab one and bring both items back to the bedroom. Abby is sitting up, her dog-eared copy of _Journey to the Centre of the Earth_ in her hand.

“Hey,” I whisper, not wanting to interrupt her. I know the story is her favourite, and I’ve seen her sit and read for hours at a time without getting up. “Towel and soup, like you asked.”

“Oh, thank you,” she bookmarks the page and sets the book on the bed as I place the mug on the nightstand. “What’s the best way to do this? It hurts to do more than sit at this point.”’

“Can you roll over? I’ll set the towel down, then you just roll back over onto the towel.”

“Yeah, okay,” she nods, and we do just that. It takes a little bit of maneuvering, but we get the job done. Once she’s settled back in, I hand her the mug of still warm broth and wait as she takes a sip. “Perfect. Thank you, my love.”

I smile, silently reveling in the fact that Abby calls me ‘my love’.

“How do you want things to go tonight? Should I sleep out in the living room?”

“I hate to ask, but I don’t want you to get sick,” she tells me. “I can take a few sick days if I need to, but I know Gee needs you at full capacity.”

“I don’t mind sleeping on the couch for a few nights,” I answer. “I’ve done it before.” I run a hand over her head. She’s still very warm. “There’s an extra blanket in the blanket box. I’ll grab a pillow and make a nest for the night.”

She smiles and reaches up to touch my cheek. “I love you, Tim Bayliss.”

I turn my head to kiss her palm. “I love you too, Abby.”

ooOoo

I wake up to hear Tim whimpering and suddenly crying out. Since he’s not in the room with me, the sound is slightly muffled, but I can tell it was a nightmare.

“Tim?” I call out. “You okay?”

He grumbles incoherently. It sounds close to ‘nightmare.’

“Come on in here, my love,” I tell him. No one wants to be alone after waking up from nightmares, and I’m not about to let that happen to Tim. I sit up and pat his side of the bed as he makes his way back into the room, his hair in his face.

I wait as he climbs back into bed under the covers and turns his back to me.

I reach out and squeeze his shoulder. “Tim? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

His back tenses. “Can’t. Won’t believe me.”

“Who won’t believe you?”

His back tenses again at the question. “Can’t talk about it.”

I roll over onto my side and wrap my arms around his waist. “Okay, not tonight. Just relax, everything’s alright.”

He does, and he sighs as he drifts back off to sleep.

That’s not like him, to say that I wouldn’t believe him, whatever it was. Although, as I go back to sleep myself, I realize that even though he made it back to bed, he hadn’t quite made it back to consciousness. Whatever that was could have been part of the nightmare.

The next morning, I wake up to find that Tim hasn’t moved at all. My arms are still wrapped around his waist, and he’s practically dead to the world. Of course, he’s lying on my arm, which is also dead to the world. It’s going to hurt when the blood starts circulating again, but he’s done that for me too, so I won’t complain. Besides, he looked like he needed a cuddle last night. Even now, as he’s lying beside me, I don’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell of waking him up. I could bang cymbals together in his ear and he wouldn’t hear me.

I startle, realizing that I’m still lying on the towel Tim brought me last night, and it’s very uncomfortable. If that means what I think it means, then we were both worried for nothing. I untangle my arms (and wait for a moment while I get the feeling back), then slip out of bed and grab the towel. I rush into the bathroom and turn on the light. Yep, it’s definitely a stomach bug, because my period has shown up with a vengeance. I grab a bar of soap and turn on the cold water. I scrub at the towel furiously, knowing I’ll have to do the same thing with my pajamas a little later.

As I’m scrubbing, I hear him turn over and sit up in bed. With how groggy he was last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t remember how he got there. I finish with the towel, and wring it out over the sink. I then take it with me back to the bedroom to throw it into the laundry hamper. It’s nearly wash day anyway.

“Good morning starshine,” I greet him as he blinks.

“How’d I get in here?” he asks, still blinking. “Didn’t I say I was going to sleep on the couch last night?”

“You did,” I pull the blanket on my side of the bed back, just to be sure. I’m going to have to strip the bed, despite all the precautions I took last night. Oh well, and here I was worried that we wouldn’t have enough laundry to do a full load. “But then you had a nightmare last night and came back in here.”

“Oh…” he looks a little lost. “Okay…” He runs his hand through his hair to get it out of his face. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Well I know one thing for sure, it’s _definitely_ a stomach bug.”

As he translates what I just said, relief and disappointment cross his face at the same time. Mostly relief though, and if I’m being honest, I’m relieved as well.

ooOoo

Thank God. As much as I want to have children and be a father, I’m not sure I’m ready. Abby and I have just moved in together a few months ago, and we’re this close to adopting a dog. What would having a baby so soon after that do to our relationship? Of course, the saying is that ‘bad things come in threes’, but couldn’t that also apply to good things?

Even still, I’m relieved. At this point, I think we both just want to enjoy each other and start building our lives. After all, if we’re able to adopt Robo, I don’t think we’re going to be able to stay in the apartment. I’ve been told that he’s fairly big for a seven month old, and he’s full of energy. I don’t see him being happy living in the small space we’re in right now. If it’s too small for us and a dog, imagine what it would be like with a baby in the mix just now.

But that’s something for us to talk about once Abby’s feeling better. Things are odd this morning. I remember going to sleep out on the couch because Abby was so sick… how did I end up back in bed beside her? She mentioned something about a nightmare, but truth be told I don’t remember what it was about. Did I sleepwalk back to bed?

I don’t have time to ask, as I’ve got to grab a shower and head to work. Not much time for breakfast, but there are always donuts if it comes to that. Plus, the sooner I’m at work, the sooner Abby can head back to bed. I can see how sick she feels, and the best way to heal is for her to sleep.

I stumble to the bathroom and get into the shower. My muscles ache from sleeping on the couch and moving back to bed in the middle of the night, and I’m hoping that the hot water will help with that.

As I get out of the shower and get dressed, I can hear Abby in the kitchen, checking that the coffee maker actually started when it was supposed to. I can also hear the fridge door opening.

I come out of the bedroom, tying my tie as I do, and see Abby putting bread in the toaster and then setting the milk back in the fridge.

“Hey…” she sounds a little better, but I can tell she’s not ready to go back to work yet. “Coffee’s ready. I figured you might want some breakfast before you go.”

“You’re wonderful, and I love you,” I kiss her cheek as I finish with my tie and go to the hall closet to grab my coat. “You should be back in bed, though. I know you’re not a hundred percent, yet.”

“If you count feeling like death as less than one hundred percent, then I agree with you,” she pours herself hot water from the kettle over a tea bag in her own mug. “You doing okay after last night?”

“Nothing to worry about, it was only a nightmare,” I snap my collar and start buttoning my coat. “I’ll see you tonight, hmm? Get some rest.”

“Will do, just don’t forget your coffee,” she hands me a travel mug and ushers me out the door. “Be safe.”

I get to the precinct and find it extremely difficult getting up the stairs. Abby is right; lack of sleep makes everything more difficult, not just from the nightmare, but the fact that she’s feeling sick. Most of all, I’m relieved that it’s just a stomach bug.

I get into the locker room to find Meldrick swapping out a new change of clothes. Every once in a while we make a change, if for no other reason than having a different change of clothes in our lockers.

“Hey, hey, hey, Bayliss, how’re you and Abby doing?”

“We’re good, neither of us got a lot of sleep last night though.” I run a hand through my hair. “She’s really quite sick, and it’s tough to sleep when the person sleeping beside you is coughing all night.”

“I hear that,” Meldrick nods as he closes his locker. “Hey, can you do the Saturday night shift at the bar? I’m gonna take Barbara out for dinner that night.”

“Sure,” I nod. _That_ seems odd. Last I heard, the two of them were constantly on the verge of getting divorced. “If Abby’s feeling better, then don’t see why not.”

“Cool. Say hi to her for me, yeah?”

“Uh huh, yeah, sure,” I nod again, throwing my change of clothes into my own locker before heading back to my desk. Something was definitely off today, but I still couldn’t put my finger on it. It was a fairly quiet day in the office, so I spent the morning catching up on old files that needed to be finished.

“Bayliss?” I hear around lunchtime.

“Yeah?”

“Line one.”

I go to my desk and pick up the phone. “Tim Bayliss.”

I listen to the voice on the other end.

“Yeah,” I answer. “You want my wife and I to come down tonight?”

Okay, I know that Abby and I aren’t married, but it’s just easier to say so, as using the terms ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t fit for us. I’m going to have to do something about the fact that we aren’t married yet, and soon...

“Alright, I’ll give her a call, see if that works…” I answer. “Okay, see you then.”

I disconnect and dial the phone Abby and I keep by the bed in case of emergencies.

“Hello?” she manages. I picture her curled under the blankets with a cup of tea.

“Hey, love, how are you feeling?”

“Not as bad as yesterday. I don’t feel like a truck ran over me but my stomach still hates me.” I hear the blankets rustle as she sits up. “Although I managed to eat a bowl of soup and not just broth.”

“Oh that’s good.” And it is. If she kept it down, that means she’s steadily on the mend. “Reason I’m calling is, the K-9 unit wants us to come down tonight and meet Robo. Do you think you’ll be okay for that?”

“What time?” There’s a lift in her voice. “I want to, I really want to, I’d love for us to bring him home if we can.”

“Around seven, they said,” I answer. “Can you meet me at the precinct?”

“Sure. I’ll take a cab or the subway. Plus, cough syrup works wonders.”

I chuckle. “Okay, see you soon, my love. Oh, Meldrick told me to say hello to you.”

“Hello Meldrick,” she deadpans. “Tell him that I said roses, not carnations.”

I chuckle again. “No idea what that means, but okay, will do. See you at seven.”

She repeats it back to me, after declaring that she’s going to have a nap. I’m almost tempted to do that myself, even though I know Gee would have my ass is a sling incredibly quickly if I ever did.

ooOoo

I wake up from an incredibly deep sleep feeling a lot better. My stomach is slightly better, and my fever has broken. There’s sweat all over the sheets, which means simply adding the bedsheets and pillowcases to the laundry basket along with the towel and my pajamas. Oh well, at least now we have enough to do a full load of laundry.

When Tim had called earlier, he’d mentioned something about the K-9 unit, and possibly meeting Robo tonight. God, I can’t tell you how much I miss having a dog in the house. Dief was my best friend for years, and I’d like to have a pet again. Not that Dief was ever a pet; he was part of the family. I’d love to be able to do that for Robo.

I take a shower, strip the bed, and get myself dressed. Grabbing a cab, I make it to the precinct just as Tim is finishing up his shift.

We head over to the K-9 unit, where the handler, called Ian, is waiting for us. He looks a lot like Vecchio, and looks like he’s biting his tongue.

“Hey Bayliss, Abby,” he shakes both our hands as soon as we greet him. I guess Tim told him my name  “Suppose you want to meet him, huh?” Ian’s gruff, but kind. “Alright, let me go get him. You wait here.”

Tim and I wait, and as we do, I remember what Dad taught me about meeting new dogs for the first time. He might growl or bark if we make ourselves look big, so I decide it’s a good idea to sit on the floor, while Tim sits in one of the chairs along the wall. If I’m sitting down, I’m not so intimidating, and he might be more willing to approach me. After all, we don’t know how big Robo is, and if he tries to knock me over, it’s a short way to the floor if we’re sitting.

Ian comes back with an incredibly bouncy, black and tan German shepherd on a leash. He’s at least fifty pounds, but lean and fast. He’s got a big grin on his face as well.

I don’t say anything, just smile and wait for Ian to give me directions. He doesn’t say much, though. Just tells me that sitting on the floor was a good idea, because “this boy is a big cuddler. Watch.”

I do, and the dog climbs right into my lap, turns over onto his back, and shows me his belly for belly rubs.

“Can I?” I ask as Tim joins me on the floor.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Ian steps back a bit, and watches as I rub the dog’s belly. The dog groans in appreciation.

“This _is_ Robo, yes?”

“Oh yeah, this is Robo,” Ian nods as I continue rubbing Robo’s belly. “You can see why he’s not a good fit for the Academy, but he’d do very well with a family.”

“Yeah, I do see,” Tim jumps in, though he’s not moving to touch Robo just yet. It’s almost as though he intrinsically understands that he needs to let Robo make the first move. “How many other people has he met before us?”

“About five or six families, but you two are the only ones I’ve ever seen him turn over for like that.” Ian sounds very pleased. “Bayliss, have you had a dog before?”

“Uh no,” Tim answers as Robo gets back on his feet and walks to Tim. Tim holds out his hand for Robo to sniff, and, just as he did with me, climbs into Tim’s lap for more belly rubs. He obliges, and I see Robo’s legs twitch in pleasure. “But Abby has, and when I put my name down… I was lonely. And this guy… I think he’s the perfect dog for us. What do you think, Abby?” he asks me.

“Considering he wants belly rubs from both of us, I agree,”  I smile at them both, then look down at Robo in Tim’s lap. “Oh, who’s a _good boy?”_ I rub Robo’s belly again, and he sits upright, licking Tim’s face.

Tim laughs, and it’s a miraculous sound. “Yeah, you’re a good boy,” he tells Robo. “Sit!”

Robo listens, and sits in front of Tim, putting his head under Tim’s hand for ear scratches. “Good boy,” he repeats, scratching Robo’s ears as requested. “So, Ian, when do you want us to take him home?”

“He still needs another week here with me, then you can take him.” Ian tells us. “And when you do, there’s a two month trial period, as sometimes it takes a little while for dogs to get used to a new environment. After that, we transfer ownership from the BPD to you, and he’s yours.”

“Oh, I can’t wait,” I tell Ian as Robo climbs back over Tim’s legs to me. “Robo,” I address him. “Robo, show me lie down?”

Robo obeys and looks at me expectedly.

“Yes, good boy,” I tell him and scratch him behind the ears, same as Tim did. “I think you’d be perfect for us. Look at how well you listen.”

I hear Ian chuckle slightly. “You’re the first people he’s really listened to and wanted to spend so much time with. Everyone else got tired of him being so energetic and he got bored.”

“You should meet my dad’s dog,” I answer. “Dief has more energy now than he did as a pup. My Dad has to walk him at least ten miles every day, otherwise they both get squirrelly.”

Robo’s ears straighten in the air.

“No squirrels in here, buddy,” Ian tells him, and I see Tim smile. “Just Abby and Tim. And they like you a lot.”

Robo barks happily and goes back to Tim.

“More ear scratches, huh?” I can tell that Tim is getting more comfortable the longer we stay here. “Yeah, alright.” He obliges. “What do you need us to do before we bring him home, Ian?”

“Make sure you’ve got room for his crate, toys, water and food bowls, and an appointment with a veterinarian. He’s up to date on all his shots, but he hasn’t been neutered yet. He’s not finished growing, so wait until he’s about a year, _then_ do the procedure. If you don’t want Robo puppies, I’d suggest that course of action.”

“How much bigger to do expect him to be?”

“Up to about 90 pounds,” Ian answers.

“Oh you’re gonna be a _big_ boy.”

Yep, I can see it already. Tim’s just as in love with Robo as I am. There’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll be taking him home next week.

When it’s time for us to go, we have to simply get up, say one goodbye to both Robo and Ian, and then head home. We didn’t want to create unnecessary excitement, in case things didn’t work out.

Not that we needed to worry. As soon as we got home, we scouted out a place in the living room for his crate. But in doing so, we both realized that, almost as soon as we brought him home, we’d likely outgrow the space we had very quickly.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Tim asks as he marks a place for the crate underneath the computer desk.

“Depends. What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that, with how big Robo is, we’re going to outgrow this space.”

Right, and what else?

“And that scare we had last night,” he gets up and stands in front of me, gently running his hands up and down my arms. “It just made me realize that, if we _did_ end up having children, we couldn’t fit a baby, a dog, and the two of us in this tiny apartment.”

I feel my eyes getting wider as I process what he’s saying.

“The lease is nearly up on this place, and I was thinking… maybe Mrs. Norton will let us go month to month while we look for a house.”

Oh my God.

“Abigail Fraser, how would you like to buy a house with me?”


End file.
